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A Perfect Right

Early in my working life, I worked for large companies. There are pros and cons to this, though eventually I decided to work for myself. But I’m glad I had that background because big companies have greater resources, especially when it comes to training.

One company I worked for had a set schedule of courses new employees went on after joining. Because of this programming, most of the courses included the same people – some I got on well with, and others I didn’t. There was one particular person, though, who stood out to me.

Clearly, I won’t name names – that would be unfair (and potentially libellous) – so for ease, I’ll refer to him as Dickhead Mike. The period I’m talking about was the early ‘90s, and if you recall the decade running up to that with YUPPIEs, brick-like mobile phones and shoulder-pads (mainly on the ladies, to be fair), then Mike seemed to be cut from this cloth. Sure, he’d updated, but his appearance still reminded you of the sharp-suited estate agents of the day.

More importantly, there was an arrogance about him that irritated me. He was always talking over everyone (his volume a notch higher to ensure anyone in the vicinity would hear him), very opinionated and dismissive of others. After two week-long courses with him, his very presence was enough to prompt my teeth to grind (honestly, they did it all by themselves).

The third course was run by a trainer who focused on personal development rather than skills specific to the job. Some colleagues who’d attended the course before me had come back filled with enthusiasm, so I was really looking forward to it.

The evening before the course started properly we had an informal get together and buffet-style meal in the hotel restaurant. When it was time to queue for the food, Mike was one of the first up so I made sure I hung back. Even so, his voice carried and, in spite of myself – and it’s worth mentioning here that I am slightly deaf – I could hear every word. As I listened to him spouting complete b*!!*£<s on subjects I had totally opposing views on, my irritation began to build.

As it happened, the man standing behind me in the queue was the trainer, John. After a minute or so, he leaned towards me.

“You don’t like Mike, do you?” he said.

By this time, I was starting to seethe, and his words were just the trigger I needed. Somehow managing to keep my voice low, I expressed exactly how I felt about Mike’s obnoxious ways, listing every negative characteristic he possessed. I’m not sure how long I went on for – long enough, certainly – but I was in no doubt that John was taking in everything I said. When I eventually shut up, he paused a moment (probably just to make sure I’d really finished my diatribe), then he said, in a very reasonable voice: “I understand everything you’ve said. But Mike has a perfect right to be that way.”

We had four days ahead of us on the course, and I hadn’t been looking forward to any of my interactions with Mike that week. But John’s words made a difference. Instead of approaching contact with Mike with apprehension, I began to do so with curiosity. And it became clearer to me that my responses to him and his actions were different because of that. I still didn’t agree with his views, but I came to realise that he was perfectly entitled to them, just as he was perfectly entitled to talk loudly, and even to cut people off as they were speaking. But we were just as entitled to do the same back. If we chose not to – because we were more polite, or lacked a desire for confrontation – that was our right too.

The key difference, though, was that, by letting go of my prejudice against him, I could relax more. In fact, I enjoyed the exchanges, because I was no longer taking them so seriously.

In those few words, John made me see that the problem wasn’t with Mike, it was with my reaction. By changing my reaction, I changed how I felt.

I do still allow myself to get wound up by other people and their behaviour at times (I’m not a fucking saint!), but at least I know enough now to remind myself that they have a perfect right to be that way. And then my irritation diminishes, and I feel better about myself. And if we can all feel better about ourselves, that’s got to be a good thing.

It’s also useful to pity them for feeling that they need to be obnoxious, overbearing (pick your own adjective here) to compensate for something that’s missing in their life. That way you get to feel superior at the same time

I think the main thing I learnt was that I allowed myself to get wound up by other people’s behaviour, even when they weren’t directly involving me. It’s a bit like when you see someone driving in a way that you don’t consider to be sensible. For some of us, a fast driver is a lunatic, while for others a slow driver is just going to create impatience. The reality is that both ways of driving can have their merits. What’s certain, though, is that getting wound up by it isn’t going to change them and the only person who’s really affected is us. So accept they have a right to drive that way, and just modify your own driving so you feel in control of the situation.

In a similar vein, when someone cuts me up, I’ve found smiling and shaking my head in the same way you would to a child who’s made a silly mistake is much more effective than hand gestures and profanities. If they see it, they’ll feel really stupid, rather than angry at being shouted at. And you come away from it feeling a lot calmer.